


Kinktober

by Zephrbabe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Fantastic Four (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alley Sex, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anonymous Sex, BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bathroom Sex, Beta Johnny Storm, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Coffee, Come Eating, Consensual Somnophilia, Costumes, Crack, Creampie, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dream Sex, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Femslash, Forced Orgasm, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Fucking Machines, Gags, Glory Hole, Groping, Gunplay, Gym Sex, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hot Lunch, Intimacy, Kinktober 2017, Kissing, Knives, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Masks, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Meetings Are Boring, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Muscles, Omega Darcy Lewis, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Project Rebirth, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, SSR Agent Darcy Lewis, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sassy, Scars, Scent Kink, Scratching, Selfies, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Sex Pollen-related dubious consent, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Sexting, Sexual Roleplay, Size Difference, Sleepy Sex, Spies & Secret Agents, Temperature Play, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Travel, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, in its mildest form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-10 01:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 11,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/pseuds/Zephrbabe
Summary: 31 kinky drabbles for the Kinktober 2017 challenge





	1. Darcy/Pietro - Sleepy Sex

Darcy shuddered awake, coming on a gasp. She hardly knew where she was for a moment, but the long, slow shift inside her drew her attention. Her free hand reached back for Pietro’s hip, but he didn’t speed his thrusts.

“Good morning,  _princeza_ ,” he huffed into her ear. One of his hands was pressed against her belly, holding her in place for his languid movements, the other snaked under her body to pluck at a nipple.

Darcy moaned, still sensitive from the orgasm he’d woken her with. His dick was dragging against every good spot, but he was going  _too slow_.

“This morning would be much betterif you-”

Darcy’s complaint was cut off by a series of sharp, fast thrusts that drove the air right out of her, and pushed her right to the brink of another orgasm.

“What’s that you were saying,  _mila_? ‘Go slower’?” 


	2. Darcy/Bucky/Natasha - Dirty Talk

Darcy laughed at something the senator’s aide said, and hid her grimace behind her champagne flute. Any other night, schmoozing with the cream of society and bending a few susceptible ears would have been exactly her cup of tea. Tonight, the socializing and political byplay was grating on her nerves.

It didn’t help that she was being tormented.

_“Would you like that, Darcy?_ ” Natasha murmured over the comms. _“When your assignment is through, shall we take you to your room and stroke you all over until you’re trembling?”_

Darcy wanted to rip the tiny bud out of her ear and jam her hands between her legs. Instead, she made a polite, empty comment to the senator herself.

_“Shall I lower you onto Yasha’s cock and order him to keep still, while I open your ass with that pretty blue prick you brought with you?”_ Natasha’s husky tones turned into a purr. _“Shall I fuck you with it until you cry from the pleasure? You know how Yasha loves it when you cry for me.”_

Darcy knew her cheeks were pinkening, and hoped like hell the senator thought she was a lightweight, and not that she was so turned on her knees were threatening to buckle.

_“Or maybe I’ll fuck Yasha with that pretty blue prick while he fucks you. I do love the noises he makes when he’s pressed between us, don’t you?”_

Darcy took a shuddering breath as the senator’s chatting finally netted Darcy all the requisite sounds needed for the voice recognition software. She made her escape as politely and rapidly as she could, more than aware of the drenched state of her panties.

As she left the ballroom, and turned to the hotel’s elevator bank, Bucky fell into step beside her, a ghost in a tailored tuxedo.

“Maybe we’ll have  _you_  between  _us_ , Natalia,” Bucky growled.

Over the comms, Natasha laughed.


	3. Darcy/Steve/Johnny - Biting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is A/B/O, btw.

Steve curled around her, over her, his steady thrusts rocking her against Johnny’s feverish body. Johnny, who was running his burning lips over Darcy’s sweat-slick skin and leaving little love-bites wherever he could reach. He was marking her as his as surely as Steve would be.

Darcy straddled Johnny’s thighs, but Steve was fucking her. It was Steve’s teeth she ached for, but Johnny was nipping her. Johnny’s cock was hard against her belly, and she wanted it, and Steve was almost more than she could take.

A high whine escaped her lips, Johnny’s teeth closing over a nipple turning it to a sharp moan. She liked how rough he got; he wasn’t afraid of hurting her. Steve had to be goaded.

“Hear that, Steve? I think she’s ready for it.” Johnny’s hand left Darcy’s hip to tug on Steve’s, guiding his thrusts deeper and harder. Johnny smoothed her hair out of her face and met her unfocused gaze. “You ready for the knot, sweets?”

Darcy could only let out an affirmative grunt, trying to angle a little to get a little friction against her clit, but it was no use. She was stuck between her two slabs of beef, panting against Johnny’s throat, dripping sweat and cum and  _so fucking ready_  to take Steve’s knot.

“Go on, Rogers, give the lady what she wants,” Johnny taunted.

Steve’s groan was almost a growl as he pushed deep, arms snaking under Johnny, holding them both in place. The fullness Darcy felt before was eclipsed by Steve’s knot growing and lodging in place inside her. The rhythmic flood of his cum into her brought her to the brink; Darcy’s legs started to shake, her orgasm just out of reach.

But then Steve’s teeth closed on the base of her neck, and he exerted just enough pressure to have her screaming into her orgasm. She couldn’t buck, she couldn’t hardly  _move_ , so she did what she could, and opened her mouth against Johnny’s skin. Then sank her teeth into his throat.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Johnny jackknifed under them, his grip tightening. A breath shuddered out of him, and Darcy felt the pulse of his cock between their bellies.

He and Steve shared a languid kiss while the three of them stayed tangled- and locked- together. Steve dragged a hand through Johnny’s short-shorn hair, and rocked his hips against Darcy’s ass experimentally. She quivered and tried to stifle a moan.

“Damn,” Johnny sighed, “I love you guys.”


	4. Darcy/? - Knife Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please envision your dude in black fatigues of choice.

She’d been stretched up by a rope through her handcuffs and around the drop-ceiling supports in the dingy, dim office. Darcy wasn’t on tip-toes, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable with her arms taut above her head. Her fingertips were cold and she was bored.

Boredom evaporated when she heard the door open behind her, and though she tried to turn, the angle of her wrists meant she couldn’t do much more than swivel her head. She caught a glimpse of black military-looking clothes, but that was it. A hand fisted in her hair, and her beanie fell off.

“Keep quiet and this will go easy for you.” He was holding her head still so his gravelly voice went straight into her ear and down her spine.

“Fuck off and let me go,” Darcy bit out. Her thought was to smash her head into her captor’s nose, but his grip on her hair was too good, and she only succeeded in wrenching her neck and bringing tears to her eyes.

“We can do this the hard way, then.”

Darcy stopped breathing. She didn’t know what kind of knife that was, but it was fucking big, and he was holding it in front of her face like he wanted her to inspect it. It was matte black, and long. One edge was partially serrated, and the tip curved curved to a point she couldn’t look away from.

The fist in her hair transferred to the back of her sweater, gathering the material until it was stretched painfully across her front. Then the blade was moving, quick slashes that Darcy didn’t think had made contact until the strained fabric gave way. Her breasts spilled out of one hole, the sound and chafe of the destroyed clothing being torn away sent adrenaline-fuelled pleasure rocketing through her.

The cool flat of the knife rested on the small of her back, at the top of her leggings. Darcy failed to suppress a moan, and hoped he’d mistake it for fear.

His voice was back in her ear, “You seem to be enjoying yourself far more than the average captive.”

He tucked the point of the knife under her waistband, lightly drawing it away from her body. Darcy fought not to squirm; she didn’t want to be cut, but the slippery pressure between her legs was throbbing. She wanted to rock her hips for a little relief, but didn’t dare.

The knife was being drawn through the thin fabric covering her ass, and Darcy was getting hotter the lower it went. Finally, her leggings were shredded to the thigh, and only her serviceable blue panties shielded her. The contrast of the air against her crotch made Darcy aware of how desperately wet she was.

“What do you say? Should I take care of your little… reaction?” His voice was pitched deep, and she didn’t imagine the lust in his tone.

“ _Fuck you._ ”

The flat of the blade was suddenly tapping against her mons, and Darcy froze.

His lips brushed the shell of her ear and he growled, “In a moment.”


	5. Darcy/Brock Rumlow, Darcy/Steve - Cuckolding

Brock stood in the doorway. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, watching them on the bed. She didn’t turn to look at him, but in her peripheral, Darcy could see how he leaned against the doorframe as though he wasn’t rock hard in his fatigues. Even though his body language read nonchalance, she could feel his eyes on her, the sharp fire of his attention stroking her as surely as the cock that moved inside her.

Steve didn’t seem to notice Rumlow’s presence- or maybe he just didn’t care.

Darcy’s was using her legs around his waist as leverage to grind up into his thrusts. She slung an arm around his neck and tugged him down for a devouring kiss. They were panting into each other’s mouths when they broke apart.

Steve’s head dropped to nip at the side of her neck, hunting out the spots that made her gasp. Tipping her head to give him access, Darcy met Brock’s eyes. The blaze of his desire showed from nowhere else but his gaze. He seemed relaxed, at the threshold of their bedroom, but Darcy knew better. Her heart beat faster, and her ankles locked behind Steve’s back, tightening him to her until their thrusts were nothing but brusque and fast, and she was so close to coming that Brock’s unblinking stare was the spark that sent her up in flames.

Steve didn’t seem to care that she’d just come so hard her nails had dug furrows into his back- or maybe he just didn’t notice. He used the slackness of her limbs to arrange her how he wanted, and kept going, his length pressing into her hard and deep and relentless.

Even as Darcy’s eyes glazed over with pleasure, she knew Brock kept watch.

They had an agreement, Darcy and Brock: Darcy could fuck whoever she wanted, but not in their damn  _bed_. And here she was, being pounded into their mattress, on their sheets, with their last vacation photo in a frame on her nightstand.

Darcy’s breath hitched with every deep thrust as Steve angled himself perfectly, until her body locked up again and a reedy moan tore from her throat. Steve jerked against her, still holding her thigh to her chest, and groaned her name.

He let her leg down and his softening prick slipped out of her. Darcy felt their combined fluids leave her and trickle onto the sheets; they’d made quite a mess.

She was going to be in so much trouble.


	6. Darcy/Steve - Size Difference

“You’re so tall,” she murmured, dragging her teeth across the tendons of his neck, where he was blush red. That’s as far up as she could reach, without him dipping down to meet her mouth. Steve had been expressly told not to move, so he didn’t. He was being good for her.

“You’ve got all these muscles,” she purred, running red welts down his torso with her nails. Heat streaked over his skin wherever she touched or scratched. Her hands were all over him, except where he wanted her most.

Darcy started leaving lipstick marks down his abdomen, following the lines she’d scored.

“You’re just-”  _ kiss _ “-so-”  _ kiss _ “-big.” Her mouth engulfed his cock, and Steve fought not to buck. 

He didn't move his head at all, per orders, though he lowered his eyes to try to catch a glimpse of Darcy on her knees. He couldn't see her, only feel her mouth and hands driving him to the brink. She cupped his balls in one soft palm, her sharp little nails a gentle threat on his skin.

She was devouring him with little moans he felt all the way down his length, and Steve had never been so grateful to be big in his life.


	7. Darcy/Steve/Bucky - Creampie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The concept of this definition of "hot lunch" came about from us [being ridiculous on tumblr](http://zephrbabe.tumblr.com/post/165765802763/anais-ninja-blog-zephrbabe) over the "Rappin' with Cap" reel from Spider-Man: Homecoming. 
> 
> WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT GO LOOK UP "HOT LUNCH" ON URBAN DICTIONARY. PLEASE. LEARN FROM OUR MISTAKES.

Steve was bone-tired and really just wanted to get something in his belly and pass out. Overnight tactical training had lasted into the morning, and the analysis had lasted even longer. Of  _ course _ Steve had to attend the debrief, it was his damn maneuvers. 

He’d caught a shower and a snack before the post-training meeting, but Agent Bartlett really liked the sound of their own voice, and Steve had eaten eight lackluster muffins before they'd been released. There'd be something better at home, even if it was only reheated leftovers and a protein shake.

He hung his shield on the mounting next to the door, and shrugged out of his top layer. He heard Bucky’s stride, or rather, the rustling of his track pants; the man was silent on his feet.

Bucky wasn’t wearing anything else, and Steve took a moment to appreciate the acres of muscle and metal slinking towards him. There was a light sheen of sweat on him, and Steve took a moment to appreciate  _ that _ , too. Bucky reached out and draped his arm around Steve’s shoulders to draw him in for a kiss. 

Some of Steve’s stress and weariness melted as he met Bucky move for move, chasing some unidentifiable taste on his lover’s tongue.

“C’mon, punk,” Bucky breathed as he pulled back. His mouth was hot pink and wet, and Steve wanted to hunt out that flavor again. Bucky started pulling Steve down the hall with the arm around his neck. “C’mon, I made you a hot lunch.”

Steve followed, his stomach starting to rumble, but Bucky tugged him past the kitchen. Tugged him all the way to their bedroom, in fact, where he let go of Steve’s neck to flourish extravagantly at the bed.

Milky pale and poppy pink, Darcy Lewis was spread out naked on their covers, ass propped up on what was unmistakably Steve’s ergonomic pillow. Her legs were splayed wide, her well-used pussy exposed and perfectly angled to be seen from where Steve stood. 

It was a very pretty pussy, Steve thought, exactly the bitten color of Darcy’s lips when she was concentrating on her work. Only Bucky knew he'd ever thought about Darcy that way, and only because Bucky knew  _ everything _ . 

Bucky returned to the bed, curling over Darcy’s side, stroking down the middle of her chest and belly. He leaned close to say in her ear, “Steve’s here, doll.”

She hummed a query, and Steve realized Bucky must have been working her over all morning- she was fuck-drunk in a way he hadn't seen since 1942. Unbidden, Steve remembered the last time he and Bucky had had an opportunity to give a woman so many orgasms she was lax with pleasure.

“Do you ‘member what you wanted him to do to ya?”

Bucky's silver hand slid over her belly and parted the lips of her pussy, showing her off to his lover.

“Steeeve?” Darcy slurred, shifting her hips. “Come eat.”

He knew-  _ knew _ \- that Bucky was grinning, but he couldn't look away from Darcy’s center, where metal fingers framed her entrance, and the thick, white cum escaping it.

Steve was at the foot of the bed before he realized it, adjusting his cock in his pants unselfconsciously. Bucky knew what this did to him, the jerk. Steve couldn't resist, and with Darcy, he didn't even want to.

Setting one knee onto the bed and laying himself out, Steve didn't waste time. He licked into Darcy, hunting for every trace of Bucky's cum in her. 

The flavor he'd kissed off Bucky, Steve realized, that was  _ Darcy _ . He'd wanted a taste of her before, but the two of them together…

Steve groaned. Darcy was letting loose little hiccuping sounds and weakly grinding her hips into his face. Bucky was watching Steve with heavy-lidded intent and toying with Darcy’s nipple. 

He slipped one finger into her relaxed, clasping pussy, and sought that one spot that had her thighs closing around his ears, muffling her wrecked moan. The poor woman slumped after a few seconds, releasing Steve’s head. 

Licking his lips, and giving his neglected erection a few strokes through his slacks, Steve glanced up at Bucky. Their eyes communicated that Darcy was a helluva dame, and they were gonna try their damnedest to keep her around. 

Steve's stomach growled. 

Darcy- miraculously not unconscious yet- giggled and muttered, “ _ Hot lunch. _ ”

Bucky guffawed, and Steve just rolled his eyes and got up to get some  _ real _ food. 


	8. Darcy/Jane/Thor - Deep-throating

Jane straddled Darcy’s chest, keeping her weight on her knees; she wanted to see the fruits of their hard work, not suffocate her friend.

“You’re doing so well, Darce,” Jane said, and glanced up at Thor. “Isn’t she?”

He only groaned.

Jane took a moment to enjoy the view, taking in how the tendons stood out from his neck, how he tossed his head back when she pulled his hips forward, the trickle of sweat down his abdomen. He was close.

She pressed a quick kiss to the center of his chest and returned her gaze to Darcy. Sweet, soft Darcy, laying there with her head over the edge of the bed, lips stretched and shiny, breathing in whenever Thor’s cock slid out of her throat. 

“Still doing okay?” 

Darcy signed “ _ Green _ ” with quite a bit of emphasis, and Jane reached back to dial up the power on the vibrator between Darcy’s thighs. Her whole body jerked, and Jane backed Thor off a bit so Darcy’s surprised moan passed a little of that vibration on to him.

“ _ My love _ -” he groaned, but Jane tugged his hips forward, knowing Darcy’s throat was relaxed and welcoming. 

She stroked Thor into Darcy’s throat a few more times, pressing him deeper, and watching the pale column of Darcy’s neck be distended by his cock.

Pushing him back so Darcy could suck in some air, Jane didn’t even have a chance to ask before Darcy was signing “ _ Ready _ ” with one hand.

Jane leaned up so she could almost reach Thor’s ear, and said with just enough volume so Darcy could hear, too, “Now, babe, you are going to fuck Darcy’s throat, and you are going to come.” 

Thor turned his face down to hers, a little incredulous, and Jane had to remind him, “She’s put a lot of effort in to be able to do this.” With a stern look and a tweak to his nipple, she added, “Don’t you think she deserves a reward?”

“Of course.” He swallowed and looked down his body to where his cock disappeared between Darcy’s flushed lips. “My apologies, Darcy.”

She kept one hand on Thor’s hip, but let him control his own thrusts. He pushed into Darcy’s throat with care, took a pair of shallow thrusts.

Darcy’s hand whipped up, grabbing Thor’s flank just under Jane’s hand, and yanked him forward until he was buried in her mouth. With a shudder, Thor pulled back and thrust in with greater force, eking noises from Darcy that were positively obscene.

He caught Jane up in his arms, hauling her to his chest and crushing his lips to hers. Darcy, underneath them, failed to moan out her orgasm as Thor thrust deep, silencing her; the pulse of his cock felt on her soft palate, and further down. She didn’t get to taste his cum- he was too far in.

She tapped Thor’s hip, and he withdrew gingerly, hissing when Darcy closed her mouth around his tip and gave him a parting suck. She wanted at least a  _ little _ taste.

Jane had switched off the vibrator, and settled some of her weight on Darcy’s belly, stroking her arms and sides. “Alright, Darce?”

Darcy, plush lips swollen, glistening, and red, quirked an eyebrow at Jane, grinned, and signed “ _ Wonderful. _ ”


	9. Darcy/Pepper/Tony - Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So even though they're not in the scene, Pepper and Tony are very much in this ship.

Darcy had an idea which one of them sent the lingerie set today. It was bright red with gold-edged lace, so three guesses and the first two didn’t count.

It was a feat of boob engineering, so Darcy wasn’t exactly complaining. The girls looked  _ amazing _ . Her  _ ass _ looked amazing. The shade of red was exactly right, so her skin even looked amazing. 

Darcy took a moment to twist around in front of her full-length mirror and find the best angles to show off the way the bra and panties flattered her. Next, she painted on the matte lipstick that had come with the silk undies, perfectly matched and custom blended. They spoiled her. (They  _ liked _ spoiling her, and she was not about to say no to being spoiled by two of the smartest, hottest, nicest, and richest people on the planet.)

She flopped down onto her bed, thankful that the enormous, rumpled duvet was currently near-black and covered in stars. It provided a nice contrast. Fumbling for her phone, Darcy took photo after photo, finally settling on two: the first, an overhead of her mussed hair spread out on her sheets, with her red lips in the frame, and the golden edge of lace peeking over the curve of her breasts; the second, focusing between her legs, where the mesh hid nothing, angled up her body so the gravity-defying feats of the bra filled the background.

Smiling to herself, she sent one photo to each of them. They had a lunch date, so she knew they’d compare her little gifts. They wouldn’t get to see  _ her _ until tonight; she had a ton of work to do with Jane today, and Darcy was determined not to stay late at the lab.

Darcy shivered at the thought of the expensive silk lingerie hiding under her jeans and the baggy sweater she was planning on wearing. No one would have the slightest idea what lay under Darcy’s oversized togs except the three of them. Not the lab techs, or the “interns,” or even Jane.

Darcy debated sliding her hand into her panties right now, and giving herself a little morning relief, but one glance at the clock showed her there wasn’t enough time.  

As she was pulling her hair from the collar of her coat, her cell phone pinged with Pepper’s special text tone.

_ I look forward to taking those off you tonight _ .

Shit. Now she was going to be wet all day.


	10. Darcy/Bucky - Gunplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as heavily gunplay as I'd originally intended, but there you have it.

Darcy sucked Bucky’s cock back into her mouth, dropping her head into his lap a little harder than she might normally have done, and let him hit the back of her throat sharply enough that she almost gagged herself.

Above her head, a small metal part pinged onto the surface of the table, and Bucky cursed.

She set a brutal pace, used every trick she knew, determined to win this little challenge. She kept her mouth wet, and didn’t hold back, sucking him down and swirling her tongue when she drew away. She ignored the way his fly abraded her cheeks when she took him deep, one hand on his thigh for balance, and the other buried down the front of her jeans.

Bucky was fumbling, reassembling a rifle never took him this long. It was his favorite; he should have been  _ much _ faster. 

Then again, his concentration was elsewhere.

Darcy knew she had won when Bucky planted his feet for leverage. He couldn’t thrust up with her head under the table like this, but Darcy knew he wanted to. 

She teased his tip for just a moment, let him feel cool air on his shaft, then took him as deep as she could and applied suction. 

The partially-assembled rifle clattered to the table as Bucky went rigid, spilling into her mouth almost faster than she could swallow. His hoarse groan when Darcy kept swirling her tongue over him sent a shiver down her spine. 

Leaving his flagging cock where it was, and surreptitiously extracting her fingers from her panties, Darcy wriggled out from under the table. She got up, dusted off her knees, and passed Clint coming in as she strolled out of the room.

Before she was out of earshot, she heard Clint snark, “You okay, Barnes? It’s not like you to leave your weapon taken apart like this.”


	11. Darcy/Steve - Orgasm Denial

Darcy’s legs were shaking. She’d knelt up until only the tip of his cock remained inside her, and held herself still above his lap, waiting for the urge to fuck herself on him to wane. 

Steve brushed her hair back from her face, sweaty strands clinging to his fingers. He swept his hands down her neck and arms, down her back, helping to settle her. 

“How many was that, sweetheart?” he murmured after a moment. 

“Zero,” she growled, voice hoarse. Her muscles weren't trembling much anymore, and she was capable of banter. “Zero orgasms, Steve.”

Steve swirled his thumb over her clit for her sass, making her hips jerk. She sank several inches down onto his cock, releasing a keen and squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Please tell me it’s five,” Darcy whimpered. She was dripping; the bedding underneath them was already soaked.

Steve determinedly did not smile; this was supposed to be a punishment, after all. Backing off orgasm five times was  _ Darcy’s _ rule, and she’d certainly used it to good effect when he’d done something she deemed reckless. 

Showing her a little mercy, Steve gripped her hips and pulled her all the way onto his cock. She fluttered around him, her body’s tell that she was on the brink. She’d worked herself on him, almost coming over and over, only to lift herself off him at the last moment. She was frustrated and flushed and beautiful, and Steve wanted to see her lose herself on top of him.

“You’re all done, Darcy. You did great,” he reassured her. He took handfuls of her ass, kneading and shifting her a little on his cock.

Darcy half-sobbed with relief, and leaned back to brace her hands on his thighs. Steve moved his hands to her waist, just resting them, and letting her set her own pace.

She started slow strokes, lifting her hips and sinking down; her momentum picked up, pussy engulfing his cock, and little noises flying from her mouth. Steve appreciated the heavy bounce of her breasts as she rode him, using his cock like her personal toy. 

Darcy was soon slamming herself down on him, moaning as she took him to the root. Her inner thighs had started up their fine tremble again, and her pussy quivered around him. Steve was finally reaching his limit, knowing Darcy was close to hers.

And there she was: her back bowed, her pussy clenched around him, and what had been a steady trickle of liquid turned, briefly, into a torrent. Steve’s passive touch at her waist turned hard as he held her still for his thrusts. He knew just how to angle himself to make a satisfied howl rip out of her throat, and she gushed all over him again.

Steve pulled her hips flush to his; the pleasure curled up from his toes and shot down his spine, and he emptied himself inside her with a groan. 

Darcy slumped against his chest, pussy clasping and flexing in weaker and weaker bursts, and let herself breathe like a bellows.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Steve could feel her heartbeat racing where they were pressed chest-to-chest.

She shifted her hips, causing a ripple where he was still buried inside her. She huffed, “I could do this all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna have some mention of what kind of reckless behavior from Darcy would warrant this kind of "punishment," but in the end, I chose smut over plot.


	12. Darcy/Bucky/Clint - Handjob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only ship Darcy/Clint if there's humor, so have an extremely cracky entry for kinktober.

“Whatcha doooo-in’?” Darcy chirped, plopping onto the end of the exceptionally long sofa in the common lounge. Bucky and Clint were laid out, faces melded together, as expected. Something about being scramble-brained snipers really drew them together. 

Of course, they twitched apart a bit; they must’ve been  _ real _ distracted if they hadn’t heard the shuffle of her fuzzy socks.

Darcy grinned at Clint’s irritated, upside-down face. He had a plain band-aid on his jaw, covering what Darcy could see was a nasty cut. His ears were red, and so were his lips. Bucky, who didn’t look half so irritated, was just as disheveled: a pair of nearly-healed black eyes, ruddy cheeks, and lips puffy from some serious makeouts.

Darcy liked to tweak the new lovers (after all, macking on each other in a public space was fair game), and she also liked, in the privacy of her own head, how they looked together. Many a nocturnal fantasy had featured Barton’s straining biceps and Barnes’ pornographic tongue. 

Then Darcy took in what was really going on. With Barnes on top of Clint, and both in black tactical pants, she hadn’t parsed that he was riding Clint’s thigh. He was still grinding,  _ right in front of her _ . And then she zeroed in on the prize: Barnes’ right hand was gripped around Clint’s hot meat thermometer, giving him slow strokes. 

Was she hallucinating this right now?!

“What do you want, doll?” Bucky murmured.

Darcy seriously could not look away from Barton’s weeping angle. She might have licked her lips. And drooled a little.

“Told ya.”

She flicked her eyes at Barnes, who was smirking. She transferred her gaze to Clint, who looked the opposite of irritated now. His pupils were blown wide, and Darcy actually saw his breath hitch. 

“Oh,” she said. “Not just me, then?”

Clint groaned, and Bucky sped his jerking. Heat suffused her, spreading in tingles to the crook of her elbows, her nipples, and directly to her love button. She felt the rush of blood southward, and wiggled her hips to settle the sudden pressure. Darcy  _ really _ wanted to be the filling in this sniper sandwich, but she  _ really really _ wanted to watch Clint come all over Bucky’s hand.

“You’re killin’ us, Darce,” Bucky growled, hips rocking on Clint’s thigh just a bit faster.

“Did I say that out loud?” Darcy grimaced.

“You did,” Clint choked out. Darcy realized she was nearly resting her boobs on his forehead.

“Oops. I have, uh, zero brain-to-mouth filter when I’m turned on.”

Barnes did something with his hand that had Clint bucking his hips, which must’ve in turn squished Bucky’s plums or something, because he twitched with a frown. His eyes narrowed. “Just for that, I ain’t gonna let you fuck Darcy first.”

“Aww, Buck, no,” Clint whined, breathing labored. 

Darcy grinned, because after Bucky got to fuck her, she was totally gonna let Clint eat her ass. He stared at it often enough.

“Shit, Darce, what then?”

Darcy settled herself a little lower on the couch, so she was right next to Clint’s ear, but still had a good view of Barnes’ steady strokes. She stuck a hand between her thighs because there was no way she was gonna watch Clint jizz without touching herself.

“Then…  _ Then _ , I’m gonna suck Bucky’s meat popsicle until I get to the cream filling.” Bucky chortled. Clint moaned. “And then I’m gonna watch you two diddle each other. Whoever comes first loses; the winner gets to fuck my ass.”

She dipped her head so her lips brushed the edge of Barton’s hearing aid, and whispered, “I hope it’s you.”

With a wrung-out groan, and a steely grip on Barnes’ legs, Clint’s flesh cannon erupted, splattering his belly and threadbare t-shirt with exactly the kind of cream filling Darcy wanted to in her mouth. 

Bucky started to wipe his hand on Barton’s messed shirt, but Darcy snagged it with her free hand, and licked the drips off him with extreme prejudice.

“Not that this isn’t a touching moment,” Stark’s acerbic tone popped the sexy bubble they’d been in. “Literally. Literally a touching moment. But get out of the lounge before anyone has to see Barnes’ antique tuckus.”


	13. Darcy/Peggy/Steve - Sthenolagnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sthenolagnia is muscle/strength kink. I was _going_ to make it more obvious, but Darcy wanted to do something else.  
>  Time Travel AU as I do, where Darcy is Agent Carter's sassy assistant while she waits to be brought back to the twenty-first century.   
> Takes place directly after this scene: [Linky](https://youtu.be/elsO836C4Jg) 0:01-0:28

 

Agent Carter stepped back into the bright examination room a quarter hour after the doctor had stepped out, leaving Steve to his thoughts. The nurse had wheeled away his vials of blood just a moment ago. He’d been lost in thoughts of Dr. Erskine, and the chances of anyone recreating the serum.

Behind Carter followed a short, curvy gal in the same brown uniform and SSR pins. Her lips were a brighter shade of red than Agent Carter's, and her glossy hair was in a modest gibson roll.

“Steve,” Agent Carter said crisply, her mouth pressed to hide a smile, “this is Agent Lewis. She's here to document some of your physical changes for SSR’s records.”

Steve took the woman's hand when she offered, and she gave him a firm grip, a grin spreading over her face. Her baby blues danced behind thick-rimmed glasses. “Big changes, eh, Ca- er, Private Rogers?”

“You could say that,” Steve said. His eyes flicked to Peggy, who had propped herself against the examining table and was glancing between the diminutive Agent Lewis and himself.

“Ok, then,” the bespectacled brunette said, taking a measuring tape and a notepad out of a pocket. She adopted a serious mein, “Disrobe, soldier, and I’ll get started.”

Steve ducked behind a freestanding partition to pull off his dress khakis. He’d been poked and prodded by more than one medical professional today, and had more blood drawn than he thought he’d had in his body, before the experiment. He wanted to protest the clinical treatment, after Dr. Erskine had gone out of his way to talk to Steve like a  _ person _ . 

Stepping from behind the curtain in his shorts, though, it occurred to Steve that the Agent’s “treatment” might not be so clinical after all. 

Agent Lewis had removed her jacket, and her fitted blouse was loosened by a few buttons. She approached him, and he found his eyes drawn to the hint of cleavage and the edge of a satin brassiere. He swallowed. Agent Carter looked on with amusement.

“You don’t stand like a tall guy,” Agent Lewis observed, stretching the tape measure over and along him. The skritch of her pencil was a small noise Steve was surprised he could hear.

“Well, as of yesterday, I wasn’t,” he said with a sardonic twist of his lips. “Yesterday, I stood hardly taller than you, Agent Lewis.”

She didn’t reply, instead concentrating on her task of taking  _ all _ Steve’s measurements. One of the nurses, earlier, had registered his height and weight. Agent Lewis, apparently, was measuring everything else.

Her small, warm hands seemed to spend as much time stroking over his skin as doing any actual measuring, however. The blush that rose into her cheeks when she wrapped the tape around his bicep made Steve a little confused. He watched her bite her lip when she measured his waist, and wondered if he imagined the backs of her fingers trailing over his abdomen. 

When she crouched down to measure his inseam of all things, he made the mistake of looking down just when Agent Lewis was licking that plush red mouth of hers. That, combined with the gentle, lingering press of the back of her hand against his balls, had his blood rushing south. 

He hoped Agent Lewis didn’t notice, but it seemed the serum had sped a few other things up besides his metabolism.

“Alright. Just another measurement or two.” She glanced at Agent Carter over her shoulder. Carter was pretending to peruse a file. 

“Drop trou, Steve, and let Darcy finish her work,” Agent Carter ordered, lifting her gaze to his with a little smile. That smile was equal parts reassurance and challenge.

And Steven Grant Rogers never backed down from a challenge.

His shorts hit the floor in short order, and Steve went to cover himself, when he caught Agent Lewis- Darcy’s- expression. The blush that had colored her cheeks now suffused her whole face; her eyes were fixed on his stiffening member. The weight of her gaze felt like a touch, and Steve felt himself getting harder with every passing second.

“Peggy- Peggy, can- may I?” Darcy’s voice was husky. She set the tape and notebook on the floor.

“You tell us, Steve: may she?” The indulgent amusement in Agent Carter’s voice was unmistakeable. 

Steve cleared his throat and tried not to sound like a soft-boiled egg with his first dame. “Of course. Be my guest, Agent Lewis.”

That pink tongue darted out to wet her lip, and she said, “You can definitely call me Darcy now, Rogers.”

He didn’t correct her. He couldn’t find the voice to tell her to call him Steve, because the buxom agent had dragged her nails up the insides of his thighs and taken his length between her soft palms. Her skin was uncalloused, but there were a few ink stains on the fingers of her right hand. The hand that had shaken his less than half an hour previously, and was now circling the base of his shaft with a firm surety. 

Steve could feel his heartbeat throbbing into his prick. 

Darcy licked her left palm and gave him an experimental stroke. When Steve hissed, she cast him a bright smile and caught his eye while she stroked him. Her right hand stayed where it was, thumb and forefinger squeezing but not meeting.

A beautiful dame fondling his pecker, and another one- who he might have been a bit sweet on- keeping an eye on proceedings, meant that Steve was rock hard in no time. 

Darcy’s left hand vanished, and Steve realized he’s screwed his eyes shut. She hadn’t even been jerking him that much, but it had been a while since he’d had anything but his own hand, and this new body seemed built to take a licking. Steve tried not to think of Agent Lewis doing any licking.

The fabric tape measure was cool and soft where Darcy laid it along his shaft. He watched her make a notation in her booklet and nod to herself.

Peggy materialized beside Steve.  She held up a screw-top glass jar with a paper label that Steve couldn’t read. She was smirking.

Darcy resumed tugging at him, face turned up to watch Steve’s reactions.

“Just one more sample we need from you, Steve,” Peggy said.

She turned the jar so the label faced him; it read: 

Project Rebirth

Steven Grant Rogers

Sample 027 - Ejaculate

Darcy’s mouth closed over him.


	14. Darcy/Natasha - Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Role Reversal" has a couple of possible meanings, so I chose to write a scene where a normally-dominant character plays the submissive.

Darcy was fiddling with her phone, hardly paying the debrief any attention now. She’d said her bit; the rest of the discussion was up to the actual Avengers.

Natasha was across from her, gorgeous and collected in what Darcy thought of as her “spy casual” look. She was making a point about practicality in the field. Although it  _ was  _ important, it was nothing Nat hadn’t iterated in previous meetings. And anyway, Darcy was a bit bored and had a new app she wanted to try out. That the app would remote-control the vibrator Natasha was currently wearing for her certainly had something to do with Darcy’s distraction.

Darcy slid her finger over the screen, and Natasha’s back straightened minutely. 

When Darcy held her finger briefly to the screen, there was no reaction. So she held her finger down.

Natasha crossed her legs.

A smirk was building in Darcy’s cheeks, but she had been with Natasha too long to give herself away so easily.

Natasha wet her lips when Darcy lifted her finger, but stayed focused on what Tony was saying. It sounded important, so Darcy let him finish his argument, then started rapid-fire tapping at maximum power.

There! She’d let out the tiniest moan and expertly turned it into a laugh at something Steve was saying.

Next to Natasha, Barnes picked up his phone. A moment later, a text popped up:  _ Go easy on your girl, doll. Meeting’s almost over. _

Darcy quit the pulsing, but started up a slow sine wave across her screen. Every time she topped out, Natasha took a breath; Darcy’s finger was slow, and anyone looking at the spy would think nothing amiss. Clint, on Natasha’s other side, shot Darcy a thumbs-up from behind his massive coffee mug. 

“Alright,” Steve said, “meeting adjourned.”

Natasha fairly dragged Darcy out of the conference room.

Some time later, sweaty and sated, Darcy burrowed into Natasha’s side and laughed, “Best meeting ever.”

“Next time,  _ koshetchka _ ,” Natasha murmured as she rolled so an arm and leg were slung over Darcy, “ _ you _ will wear the device, and  _ I _ will control the phone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> App-controlled vibrators are a thing! [Here's one](http://we-vibe.com/sync) in case you need to do your own research *wink wink*


	15. Darcy/Bucky - Object Insertion

Darcy buried her face in her pillow, her drawn-out moan muffled as her back arched and her limbs twitched. She barely kept herself upright, pleasure shivering through her. 

Bucky’s thrusts slowed as she clenched around his cock, the muscles of her ass forcing him still. 

The vibrator, he left inside her, one hand curled under her belly to hold it in place. With how slick she was, and how full she felt, the strength of her orgasm should have pushed the toy right out.

Instead, the way Bucky’s cock in her ass pressed the toy against her front wall, buzzing against  _ exactly _ the right spot had her coming again before she had a chance to wind down from the first one.

“ _ Jesus _ , doll, you’re squeezin’ me like a vise,” Bucky moaned, pressing a kiss to her shoulder through her hair. He let the toy slip out a few inches, and pressed it back in, fucking her with it while he stayed motionless, buried to the hilt in her ass.

Darcy turned her face out of her pillow to beg Bucky to turn off the toy or start moving, because she was on the verge of another orgasm. She wasn't sure she could take coming three times in rapid succession. 

She didn't get a chance to beg, because Bucky, curved over her back and working the vibrator in her with renewed vigor, started babbling. He was close; Darcy’s toes curled. A torrent of endearments and filth escaped from his mouth, whispered into her skin. 

His hips jolted forward, and he pressed the toy into her, deep as he could. The vibrations kicked up, and he barely made two thrusts before Darcy was clenching down on him with a wail. The pulse of him flooding her barely registered, she was so far into her own sensations. 

Bucky pulled himself and the toy out of Darcy, and collapsed to the side.

Darcy let her legs slide out from under her, mashing her face into the pillow again. She didn’t trust her voice, so she reached out blindly and patted what turned out to be Bucky’s abs.

“Same, doll. Same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're awful, like me, you should envision them using one of [these](https://io9.gizmodo.com/these-avengers-dildos-are-presumably-earths-mightiest-1111237515).


	16. Darcy/Matt Murdock - Masks

The alley wasn’t dark, the dumpsters didn’t stink, and Darcy was not being ravished against a brick wall by Matt Murdock. Right.

His perennial stubble scraped her cheek and then her neck as Matt followed the thrum of her heart with his lips. Darcy’s skirt was already tucked up into her waistband, and she had one of his muscled thighs trapped between hers so she could rub herself on him. He seemed to want to take his time, tonight. 

But back alleys weren’t for slow lovemaking.

He went to pull off the red mask he always wore as the Daredevil, show her his face, but Darcy tapped her fingers on his wrist. Matt paused with his fingers under the edge.

“No, leave it on.”

He hiked her thigh over his and laughed. “Oh Darcy, you know that doesn't make a difference.”

Darcy rolled her hips against the ridge thickening under his red leather getup. 

“Maybe not for you,” she gasped.


	17. Darcy/Loki - Costume

He had her pinned, one hand gripping her ass and the other braced against the ostentatious gold wall. Her emerald green skirts were around her waist and her legs were around his, and it was a good thing the Einherjar didn’t patrol this corridor very often, because Darcy was having a problem keeping quiet.

Loki pulled her hips towards him a little, getting the angle just right and thrust into her, keeping his rhythm no matter how Darcy writhed, gripped his hair, or let her mewls grow into full-throated moans. The clink and chime of her gold colliers and bangles filled his ears, along with Darcy’s own music.

She deserved everything he was giving to her. More; she deserved the world.

Closing the space between them, Loki pushed until their hips were flush together. Darcy’s rosy mouth opened, panting and dropping whimpers as he ground his pelvis against her.

“Do you have any idea,” he groaned, “what seeing you in my colors does to me, mortal?”

She was close, he could feel how her inner muscles started to bear down. But Darcy’s eyes cracked open, and she smoothed his hair out of his face with more tenderness than skill.

“Yes.” 


	18. Darcy - Masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's A/B/O

“ _ Fuck fuck fuck, _ ” Darcy chanted under her breath. She was  _ so close _ , ugh. Every plunge of the vibrator brought her closer to coming. Her wrist was getting tired; her fingers were slippery.

It was like she was just teasing herself, but she wanted to come. Understatement. She  _ needed _ to come. It was so incredibly unfair that her special knotting dildo had to break for good just as her heat was starting. Even overnight delivery wasn’t fast enough.

She was burning up, dripping around her toy. Her hips lifted off the bed as she got her strokes just right. Darcy had found a spot that made lights dance behind her closed eyes every time the vibrator passed along it. 

Her grip was awkward, and her legs were getting tired from the awkward position, but Darcy paid no mind. Her toes curled into the bedspread and Darcy rocked forward into the thrusts of her own hand, a high moan smothered into her pillow. Her pussy clamped down on the toy, and Darcy thrust it deep; she was vibrating all the way out to the tips of her fingers.

Vibration was no replacement for the full, stretched feeling of a knot inside her, but hooo baby, it still felt pretty amazing.


	19. Darcy/Becca Barnes - Sex Work, Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a 1940s AU, an A/B/O AU, _and_ a sex worker AU.
> 
> Rebecca Barnes is Bucky Barnes' sister, [here's her Marvel wikia page](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Rebecca_Barnes_\(Earth-616\)). (She's also appeared as his granddaughter.) As far as I've seen in fics, Bucky always has a sister named Becca, if a sister is mentioned. 
> 
> The prompts were Sex Work/Prostitution or Olfactophilia (Scent kink), but doing both worked out well. Blame and thanks are to be aimed at [ChrissiHR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissiHR/pseuds/ChrissiHR) and [SerialObsessor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/pseuds/SerialObsessor) for these ideas.

Becca draped herself over Darcy’s bed, not giving half a fig that her dressing gown was unbelted and her slip was showing. Anyway, the set was silk and exactly the proper shade of red to contrast her dark hair and play up the gray of her eyes.

Darcy- hair in rags and wearing her lightest, shortest nightdress, despite the mild spring evening- leaned down and buried her face in Becca’s neck. 

“You smell so good, Bec.” Darcy’s lips dragged over her skin, and Becca shivered at the touch of Darcy’s tongue. One of her ragged rolls pressed against Becca’s cheek, and she pushed the curvy brunette away with a laugh.

“You’re only sayin’ that cause I smell like  _ alpha _ , you goose.”

Darcy shook her head, hair bobbing in a ridiculous manner. “Y’always smell nice, like, like… just  _ nice _ .” She rolled into Becca’s side, slinging a leg over her thighs and dipping her hand between the layers of silk. Darcy’s fingers were hot against Becca’s ribs.

“Heat starts tomorrow, huh, Darce?” Becca laughed. Darcy’s wet cunny pressed against her hip, and she groaned confirmation. Her face was back in the crook of Becca’s neck, and Darcy was making no bones of tasting the delicate skin where Becca’s last client had fitted his jaw as he worked himself into her.

“Well,” Becca said, pushing the tickling hair rags away from her face again, “you all booked up?”

“Mmhm,” Darcy hummed, kissing over Becca’s clavicle and pushing open her dressing gown. “I always am.”

“You sign up any Army boys?” Becca tried to keep her voice from wobbling as Darcy wet the silk over one nipple. Her red-tipped fingers were trailing along the modest edge of Becca’s slip.

“They can’t afford me,” Darcy murmured, smug. Her Philly accent was a little stronger as her voice grew husky.

“Ain’t stopped you before,” Becca breathed, squirming as Darcy’s nimble, warm fingers teased up the inside of her thigh. “Why, I recall a certain  _ captain _ -”

Darcy’s head popped up from Becca’s breast. “You hush your mouth!” A blush overtook her pretty, aroused rosiness; her eyes got real blue when she blushed. “He was _ special circumstances _ .”

“Yeah, I ‘member hearing those ‘special circumstances’ clear across the house,” Becca teased. 

In retaliation, Darcy flipped up the edge of Becca’s slip and stuck her face right where Becca was wettest. Darcy’s moan shimmied across Becca’s skin, and Becca moaned right back. 

One hand fitted between her own thighs and the other cupping Becca’s small breast, rubbing the silk across a stiff nipple, Darcy lapped every trace of alpha musk off of her. 

Darcy was always noisy in her pleasure, but damn, she’d even give a geezer a stiff one with the ecstatic caterwauling when she was in heat. Being muffled in a muff didn’t seem to faze her one bit. Becca’s hips hitched every time Darcy moaned against her clit. 

Becca was close to her peak, but she wanted a little of her own back. Breathless, she crooned, “Are you ready for your heat-mates, Darce? You lookin’ forward to gettin’ that alpha scent all over your sheets and body and inside you?” 

Darcy mewled and worked her tongue faster on Becca’s clit. Darcy left off fondling Becca’s breast in favor of teasing her entrance with her fingers. 

“Tryin’ so hard to put a baby in you- he knows he can’t, but his body wants to  _ so bad _ that he fucks you for  _ hours _ ?” Darcy moaned and stroked into Becca, two fingers in and slick from her own words. 

Becca’s little grin was wicked,“Have you been thinkin’ about gettin’ a knot inside you, pushin’ into you so good ‘til you can’t move without comin’?” 

Darcy’s whole body twitched, even her fingers, which hit that magic spot in Becca’s cunt by pure chance. Darcy orgasmic moan and Becca’s surprised shout overlaid one another. 

When Becca came down from the kind of orgasm only Darcy could deliver, she peeked down her body. Darcy had twisted onto her side, the deep blue of her lace-edged nightie making her look pale as milk. Her head rested on Becca’s leg and her fingers were moving over her cunny at a languid stroke.

Becca smirked, “I’ll take that as a yes.”


	20. Darcy/Natasha/Jane/Johnny - Foursome

Johnny couldn't move his wrists, but that was ok. It was more than ok.

“No touching,” Natasha admonished with a soft smile. She dipped a thumb into his mouth and wet his lip as she pulled away.

Jane knelt on the bed by his feet, pert breasts and golden skin a gentle contrast to Darcy’s pale skin and heavy, pink-tipped breasts. Darcy sipped at Jane's lips, and Jane chased, trying to deepen her kisses. 

Natasha mounted the bed behind Jane, gracefully bracketing her killer thighs around Jane's. The thumb that had been in his mouth tweaked a stiff nipple, and then traveled down, down, between Dr. Foster’s legs. Natasha's hand briefly covered Jane's bush before slicking her fingers in Jane's juices and starting to work her over. 

Sounding just like she did when Darcy brought her a hot Pop Tart and a fresh mug of coffee, Jane moaned. Natasha hummed and began sucking hickies into her neck. 

“Am I dreaming?” he said with a grin. 

Darcy bent down, her soft breasts dragging over his chest hair, her hips pressing down on his erection. Plush lips teased the rim of his ear, and she said, “You're totally dreaming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally dreamt this punchline.


	21. Darcy/Johnny/Namor - Double Penetration

“You ok, Darce?” Johnny could feel the tension in her back, and around him. 

“If you move, I am going to come.” There was a growl in her tone he normally only heard when she was angry.

“Is that not the point?” Namor asked. Johnny wanted to roll his eyes and tell Namor to chill for one second, but the man was already pulling down on Darcy’s hips to seat himself more firmly inside her. 

Darcy’s legs twitched and Johnny hazarded a quick, shallow stroke that, yeah, had Darcy clenching down on him with a howl. Underneath her, Namor cursed and thrust up; Johnny felt him through the wall of her ass.

Darcy’s limbs went lax with a breathed “ _ hhomygod, _ ” and Johnny decided to be a gentleman and let her recover for a minute.

Namor’s face was arch and amused over Darcy’s shoulder. His affected tone was mildly indignant, however, “I seem to have been clawed.”

“Serves you right,” Johnny huffed. Being a gentleman was getting difficult with the way Darcy was tilting her hips up and down. “Darce?”

“If you don’t start moving, I am going to do worse than claw.”


	22. Darcy/Jack Rollins - Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't smutty- weird! 
> 
> Jack Rollins was played by [Callan Mulvey](https://www.google.com/search?q=jack+rollins+marvel&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjisZGc04fXAhVBhlQKHTVtDdAQsAQIOg&biw=1123&bih=542#imgrc=_), in case you need a visual. ;)

“What about this one?” Jack murmured, tracing the faint white line along the bump of her wrist.

“Falling out of the tree outside the library,” she said, stretching under him.

“What about this?” A small, puckered scar under her breast, at the edge of her ribs. It was no wider than his thumbnail, but it was still shiny and pink.

“New Mexico.”

He knew she didn’t like to talk about it- he’d read the file- so he settled his weight on her a little more and distracted her with a kiss. She licked into his mouth, coaxing him to distract her a little more.

Darcy’s hand cupped his face, her eyes fluttering closed as he slipped between her legs. Her thumb ran along the deep scar that curved over his jaw.

“What about this one,” she said.

Jack dipped his head towards her again, pressing his lips to hers for a moment, “You know about that one.”

Darcy’s full mouth curled up at the corners, her eyes still closed and her thumb still stroking his cheek.

“I know, but it’s my favorite.”


	23. Darcy/Steve - Wall Sex

I have moved this chapter to its own work, since it got kinda long, and then sort of spawned into another two-ish chapters.

It's Darcy/Steve, A/B/O, set in the 1940s. Darcy is an unwilling time-traveler again, making the most of her situation.

Find the Kinktober 23rd entry [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12506304/chapters/28473612)


	24. Darcy/Steve/Clint - Voyeurism

The first time, Steve caught them at it when they should’ve been training. The outdoor range was empty, and Steve had only meant to continue on his run, but the noises-  _ fuck _ , the noises they’d been making had made him painfully hard in his running shorts. In the time it took him to hear them and catch sight of them, Darcy was already screaming into the grassy verge, Clint’s hips pistoning through her orgasm with unerring precision.

The second time, Darcy caught them. She wasn’t  _ snooping _ , she was looking for Clint. In Steve’s office. Where they totally were. She didn’t  _ know _ Clint was going to be perched on the edge of Steve’s desk, his head thrown back and bare arms corded with strain. She didn’t  _ know _ Steve would look so good with Clint’s cock in his mouth, working him over with a tactician’s focus. She did, however, stay frozen outside until Clint bucked in Steve’s grip and Steve swallowed everything he gave with an approving groan.

The third time, Clint caught Darcy riding Steve like a stolen pony. In the gym, no less. He’d been napping in one of his high-hides (not a nest, thank you very much), and had woken naturally, feeling refreshed and snug. He’d taken his hearing aids out, because why wear ‘em if you’re going to be asleep anyway? So he couldn’t hear Darcy’s rich moans, but he could see the way her hair tossed back as she clutched Steve’s shoulders. He couldn’t hear Steve’s half-gasped concern, but he could read Steve saying  _ Anyone could walk in on us _ . Technically,  _ they’d  _ walked in on  _ him, _ so Clint felt a lot less bad about freeing his erection and playing along with his oblivious lovers.


	25. Darcy/Natasha/Clint - Fucking Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from Chrissi, this time Darcy/Nat/Clint and a mashup of bondage, gags, and fucking machines.

She had them just where she wanted them. 

Clint was moaning around his soft gag, trying not to come until she gave him permission. The machine moved in his ass, stroking his prostate, making him drip. His hands were free; he was allowed to touch himself if he wanted. 

Natasha, on the other hand, had to be bound. Her fingers were far too clever, and Darcy knew how much she liked to push the rules. Like making noise: Darcy  _ liked _ her little friends to be vocal, and Natasha used her silence and impassivity as a tool of defiance.

When Natasha was truculent, Darcy had to use the ring gag. And the sybian.

She dialled the vibrations up a fraction and watched in delight as Nat flexed in her ropes, climaxing with a near-silent gasp for air. Natasha was graceful in everything, even orgasm, and Darcy loved to watch her dance.

Darcy moved the dial another few ticks, the sound of the machine almost drowning Natasha’s tiny, desperate noises.

“I am going to get you to scream for me, NatNat,” she promised. Darcy gave Clint’s straining cock a rough stroke, wanting his pained moan to drive home her point. “Clint doesn’t get to come until you do."


	26. Darcy/the Howlies - Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another "Darcy is stuck in WWII, working for the SSR and Peggy" AU.
> 
> Not really smutty, just suggestive.

Agent Lewis knew what she was doing. Peggy did  _ not  _ roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. 

Darcy was a modern woman; more “modern” than any of Captain Rogers’ squad knew. They only saw a pretty dame with a smart mouth, a light skirt, and enough strange habits to fill an SSR file. Then again, she was the one who did the filing. 

This week, the squad was back at base, and Peggy and Col. Phillips were preparing them for their next mission. As Peggy's aide and a full agent of the SSR, Darcy had clearance to attend all meetings. Phillips was discussing a finer point of the mission with Steve, so they both missed how Darcy, pushing the coffee cart, returned with her skirt quite a bit shorter than regulation. Peggy did not miss it, and neither did the Howlies.

The coffee cart was a stroke of genius, Peggy had to admit. It was an excuse to get right up into someone’s space, lean over them, give their hands a little access while the brass were oblivious. Not to mention, the cart meant she circled the table quite slowly, giving the Howlies a lovely view of her curves, and her shapely legs encased in contraband silk stockings. The seams were red.

Peggy, at the foot of the table, had a perfect view of all the goings-on. Darcy brought Peggy a cup of her preferred strong, black tea, with a splash of milk and a pinch of sugar, and kept on her round.

Phillips took his coffee black with a teaspoon of vile instant mixed in; Rogers took his black, too, but with enough sugar to make a dentist cry.

Darcy handed a cream-no-sugar to Jones, and as he gave her a sweet smile and a “Thank you,” his hand traced the seam up to the hem of her skirt and no further.

Falsworth was less of a gentleman; he stroked up under Lewis’ hem as she set his coffee before him, and down the other side as she stepped back. Darcy’s cheeky smirk was hidden as she turned back to the cart.

Dernier got a little honey in his coffee; Peggy wrinkled her nose, but Darcy seemed to think it quaint. As she bent to set his cup down, Peggy heard the distinctive snap of an elastic garter on soft skin and a yip. Barnes, down the table, coughed at just that moment, and the two officers’ conversation continued, uninterrupted. Jacques’ unapologetic shrug to Darcy had Peggy stifling a smile.

Darcy’s cheeks were a bit pink as she doctored Morita’s coffee- mostly hot milk and not a little sugar. Peggy hadn't thought Agent Lewis would be interested in that type of play, but as Morita’s hand kneaded her little injury through her skirt, and Darcy bit her lip, Peggy reconsidered. Darcy lingered at Jim’s side until he dropped his hand and said, “Thanks for the coffee.”

Dugan smiled up at her as Darcy placed a steaming cup before him, bent so her breasts pressed against his arm for a moment. He lifted his cup to his ridiculous moustache as he slid his broad palm high enough that Darcy’s skirt began to bunch at his forearm. Peggy could see the distortion of his hand on Darcy’s bum through the fabric, but he didn't do more than run his hand over her.

Barnes, however, thought he was clever. Darcy set his syrupy-sweet coffee in front of him and rocked back on her heels as his hand snuck up  _ between  _ her legs instead of up the back. He was smooth, Peggy acknowledged- Darcy’s skirt didn't bunch up at all as Barnes stroked her thigh. No doubt  _ above _ her stocking. 

Then Barnes’ eyes bugged out, and he raised his startled gaze to Darcy’s. Peggy couldn't see her aide’s expression, but she knew it was as smug as the one on Peggy’s own. Bucky had found Darcy’s pearl-handled Derringer.

Peggy watched Barnes lick his lip as he withdrew his hand. Darcy, going back to the coffee cart, was grinning.


	27. Darcy/Johnny - Temperature Play

Darcy strained up into Johnny’s hands, hissing as his fingertips trailed over the skin of her thighs and over her hips. He tapped his fingers over her belly, careful to skip where she really wanted his heat. 

Her skin was pink everywhere he touched, and she could feel the ache and throb of a sunburn in the wake of his hands. It only lasted a few minutes, but she wanted more of that ache, and he was avoiding all the best spots  _ on purpose _ .

“Higher, Johnny, go higher.”

The radiant heat of one hand passed over her breast, and she arched up to meet it, but he was out of reach. His other hand pinched her other nipple, and Darcy jerked; his fingers were so hot and there was nowhere for her to go. 

“Darcy,” he laughed, “you’re the one who’s tied up. You can’t keep ordering me where you want.”

Johnny dragged his burning hands over her inner thighs, and she wanted to scream and grind on his face at the same time. His hands lifted, and Darcy was left shivering as his breath stirred over the places he’d touched.

She raised her head, tossed sweat out of her eyes, and jerked her wrists against the handcuffs holding her to their headboard. “Fine. Next time we’ll tie  _ you _ up.”


	28. Darcy/Brock Rumlow - Swallowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some cynical SHIELD Agent!Darcy!

Lewis was trying to suck his brain out of his dick. She had one hot little hand around his balls, rolling them with a steady squeeze just this side of pain, and he was about to blow.

He didn’t warn her; didn’t need to. It was her little post-mission habit, and Lewis only ever got pissy about two things: her weapon being fucked with, and this. Brock just tightened his hand in her hair and fucked up into her mouth.

The half-choked groan from Lewis sent him right over the edge. For a few seconds, he was tense with it, jetting into her mouth and feeling her tongue all over him.

Brock sagged back into the pilot’s seat, lax, while Agent Lewis drew out every last drop.

She worked his cock until he shoved her head away with a hissed, “Enough.”

Lewis glared up at him. She never got enough.

He reached down, thumbing her plush lower lip. She’d missed a smear of cum, but he pushed it into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue as a reminder that he was her CO and he didn’t need to indulge her.

For once, she stayed quiet. Stood up, shucked her tac pants, and climbed onto his chair without a word.

Brock smirked as she balanced one foot on the armrest and reached up to the hand-holds in the overhead console. Her wet pussy was in his face, and he knew his business. Licking his lips, he growled, “My turn.”


	29. Darcy/Tony - Overstimulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For GhostCrumpet.

Darcy’s blindfold was wet with tears, but Tony smoothed the damp edge against her cheek and said, “One more, D.” 

A hoarse whine escaped her, and she shook her head. She tried to shift her hips away when he dragged the edge of a work-rough finger through the lips of her sex, but Tony smirked; he knew her limits.

He stroked down her side, smoothing over her sweaty curves, and spreading sensation all over her. She twisted in her soft restraints, ass sliding on the glass of his workbench.

“Are you going to make me work for it this time?” he mused, flicking a stiff, chafed-red nipple. 

Darcy twitched, but didn’t answer. She was tensing up, ready to try to hold out against one of the specially-designed machines he’d been using on her all evening. 

Tony wasn’t going to use his machines this time.

He slipped two fingers inside her, and reveled in her short gasps as he crooked his fingers up. She was hot and wet and tender, and there were a few tricks his tools couldn’t do just yet.

Tony focused on tapping the perfect spot inside Darcy, and watched her mouth open. He didn’t give her a chance to make a sound, but pressed down on her lower belly at the same time as his other hand pressed up.

Darcy screeched, muscles in her legs and belly flexing. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers. Tony only needed to jostle his hand and she was gushing, her back bowed and legs fighting against the restraints. 

She sagged back onto the table, her voice a blown-out wheeze, and Tony took his fingers out of her. 

Tony petted her thighs; he was going to let her breathe for a moment before untying her. 

“Next time,” she croaked. He always forgot that her sass was the first thing to come back. “Next time I’ll make you work for it.”


	30. Darcy/Johnny/Pietro - Cunnilingus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Chrissi and Dresupi, for the help and inspiration.

Darcy wobbled a little, but Johnny’s hands on her waist held her steady while he wormed his tongue between her ass cheeks, and the hand she had fisted in Pietro’s hair gave her enough balance to grind her hips into his face.

She loved when they knelt for her, her tall, strapping men. 

Her  _ mischievous _ men. Because Johnny had replaced his tongue with a finger, and was pressing into her ass while Piet’s tongue sped up on her clit. 

The breath froze in her lungs as her orgasm crashed through her, curling her toes and threatening to topple her.

She yanked on Pietro’s hair, but he didn’t budge, dipping his tongue into her instead and groaning at the flutter of her muscles.

“You okay there, sparky?” Johnny said, nipping the sensitive spot at the base of her spine. His finger didn’t stop its slow drag in her ass. “You need us to stop for a second?”

Piet started to draw back, and Darcy could  _ feel _ the smirk on his lips. She spread her legs so they each had more room, and pressed Pietro’s face back into her pussy. 

“Don’t you dare stop.”


	31. Darcy/? - Gloryhole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the blame (ok, 12% of the blame) goes to Chrissi for telling me to write this prompt. 
> 
> The premise: Darcy gets sex pollened and left at a truck stop and somehow, someway, the Avengers are... using it?

_ “What the fuck? You’re leaving me here?” _

_ “Look, you’re in no fit state after they got you with that pheromone bullshit. You’ll just slow us down. And anyway, someone will be along soon to help.” _

That should have made her feel better, but it hadn’t. They’d abandoned her three hours ago. Three hours of sexual frustration and anger.

She was stranded at a truck stop, desperately fingering herself to work away some of the ache. It wasn’t helping a whole lot. 

Thank god the bathroom was clean, at least. She hadn’t expected that, or that they’d be unisex. The hole in the side of her stall, on the other hand. That didn’t surprise her one bit.

The chemical Darcy’d been dosed with had her so turned on, she might have been hallucinating when someone stuck a half-hard cock through the opening and coughed, “A little help?”

“Not  _ that  _ little,” Darcy quipped. One hand left her wet and empty pussy to get a nice grip on the strange dick. It throbbed and fleshed out, to her delight. Darcy kept up her steady strokes until she had a meaty handful, her other hand keeping time between her legs.

She tipped her head and laved the shaft with her tongue. They both groaned. 

Setting a pace that wouldn’t put a crick in her neck, Darcy took the cock deep, fantasizing that it belonged to one of Thor’s superhero friends. They were all hot as fuck, and she wouldn’t mind going down on any one of them, Natasha included. 

Her fingers circled her clit as she worked the cock with her other hand, lips, and tongue. It was a very nice cock, although Darcy thought she might be biased, since she was about to come from having it in her mouth.

She pushed forward enough that her nose bumped the wall of the stall, and the cock hit the back of her throat, and she spluttered as she came. She drew her head back after a moment, and shivered at the pleasure of her tongue on him and the stretch of her lips.  Darcy bounced a little, fingers rocking on her clit. 

“ _ Darcy _ ,” he moaned. Her mouth filled with bitter salt, and Darcy swallowed; pleasure tingled in her lips and fingertips and made her toes curl. She was ready for round two to start.

Wait, hold up. She recognized that voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://zephrbabe.tumblr.com/)


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